


Sink or Swim

by L122ytorch



Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rescue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: Clark, a year into Met U, comes home to Smallville for the weekend to get away from school and saving people...only to stumble upon a school bus accident. In light of all he's seen and done, suddenly, keeping his secrets isn't Clark's first priority.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *In which Lex and Lana are married and Clark’s father, Jor-El is an abusive megalomanic and besties with Zod. Also, in an odd twist, Jor-El has bestowed upon Clark the ability to “keep” injuries in order to maintain his cover. Clark also has the crest that Jor-El burned into his chest.*

*In which Lex and Lana are married and Clark’s father, Jor-El is an abusive megalomanic and besties with Zod. Also, in an odd twist, Jor-El has bestowed upon Clark the ability to “keep” injuries in order to maintain his cover. Clark also has the crest that Jor-El burned into his chest.*  
+++++++++++

Clark’s heart sank as he realized that the cause of the twisted and broken guardrail of the bridge was more than just a family vehicle. He should have had his listening tuned in, he should have stumbled upon the scene sooner, he should have saved the littlest boy first. His scrambled thoughts were a confusing jumble interlaced with panic.

A school bus, bright yellow even beneath the blanketed gray clouded sky, was in the water and sinking fast. Even worse, it was winter and the water had to be unbearably cold. These were children, helpless innocent children, screaming and panicking.

Clark dove into the water and swam to the bus. He didn’t want to open the main sliding doors because it would let more water in, so he got on the roof and tore off the roof’s emergency exit. Inside was the overwhelming sight of little bodies flailing as water rose. 

“Stay calm, stay calm,” he reassured the kids as much as himself as he x-ray scanned everyone, checking for heartbeats. The metal of the bus creaked unnaturally as the water continued rushing in through cracks in the doors and shattered windows. Clark managed to put one kid under each arm and hang on to two more with his hands. He told a fifth child to cling to his neck as he moved towards the exit, reassuring the rest of the kids that he’d come back.

Only a year into school at Met U, Clark had yet to put together any disguise. He was openly saving these kids…as Clark Kent…consequences be damned. 

With his four passengers he sped to the shore and used a shockwave against the ground to launch him and the kids up to the bridge. He raced to his truck and got his cell, instructing one of the girls to call 911 before disappearing back into the water. 

To Kent’s surprise and dismay, he was exhausted, winded, and aching, which could only mean one thing…meteor rocks had to be at the bottom of the river. Pushing this realization and subsequent panic to the back of his head, Clark continued taking batches of kids, five at a time, to the bridge. 

He looked at the thirty kids huddled together on the bridge gasping for air, shaking, in shock and in a moment of selfish panic spoke to them. “You can tell the police that I saved you,” he heaved for air. “But you can’t tell them that I’m special, okay?” The huddled mass of dripping heads nodded, grateful to simply be alive and willing to keep Clark’s secret…for now. He nodded back at them before gulping in more air and diving off the bridge once more.

On the last round, there were only three kids left. The fire department had arrived and were preparing to repel down into the river from the bridge. Two children were already deceased when Clark had first entered the bus, taken by the impact of the crash. It made Clark want to scream and cry and vomit all at once but he tried to focus on the three kids still alive.

Two boys and a girl. Maybe eleven years old? “Can you guys all swim?” he screamed towards them. All three nodded and shouted “yes.”

He tried to carefully move towards them so as to not disturb the sinking bus, but to no avail. Just as his large hand clasped over the first tiny wrist, the metal coffin of a vehicle lurched and the final few inches of air gurgled and disappeared as the bus filled completely and began the descent downward.

Clark’s heartbeat screamed in his ears as his hands fought to hold on to something, anything. He took the child he had a grip on and shoved her towards the opening in the roof of the bus. She pushed through it and began swimming upward.

Two boys left.

Clark reached the closest one and yanked him towards the roof exit. He could feel his strength waning as the bus neared the bottom of the deep river so he pushed the boy as hard as he could towards the surface in a burst of dissipating energy. 

One boy left.

He was near the back of the bus. Floating weightless. Suspended. Eyes wide in terror. Blue zipper jacket floating around him like a cape, white shoelaces untied and moving with the water. He reached a hand towards Clark and Clark reached for it when the bus came to a sudden, jarring tumble at the bottom of the river. The bus was now upside-down. 

The boy and Clark were jostled apart, floating helpless for a moment before Clark could move. A sharp, familiar, lime green pain seared through Clark. His lungs felt as though they were crumpling like tissue paper in his chest and he could only imagine that the child was nearly out of time. 

Despite the gripping gnaw of shooting agony, Clark pulled the child towards him by his shirt, he felt the small hands of the boy grasping to hang on as Clark looked for an exit strategy. Now that the bus was flipped, the roof hatch was no longer an option. 

The clock was ticking.

He made his way to a shattered window, pushing the boy through it first, but rather than swim, the oxygen deprived kid just floated there. It was a struggle, but Clark squeezed his muscled body through the small window. Small pieces of meteor rock were floating around him and his vision threatened to give out. 

Kent grasped the child and struggled to the surface, the boy’s body was convulsing in his arms. Just as Clark thought he’d drown before reaching the surface, he saw light and broke the surface of the water with a wheezing gasp. 

He swam towards the firefighter suspended off the bridge and handed him the kid. Not willing to wait for a rescuer himself, Clark swam towards the shore and stumbled up the hill towards the bridge.

Out of breath, bleeding and freezing cold, Clark hobbled towards the EMT working on the boy. He was doing CPR but the boy wasn’t moving. Cars were everywhere, EMT’s were wrapping kids in space blankets and putting them into ambulances. It was controlled chaos.

Finally, Clark reached the EMT, who, to his horror, was calling a time of death. 

“No, NO!” Clark screamed, pushing the man aside and x-raying the child. There was no sign of life but still, Clark clasped his hands and tried to start the boy’s heart. 

“Sir, you need to stop!” the EMT shouted at him, grasping at his wet shoulders. Clark breathed into the tiny lungs and kept pumping. “Please, please come back. Don’t die kid, you can’t die!” tears blurred his vision. 

No matter what he did, the child was limp and cold, his lips blue. Finally, several police officers and EMT’s pulled Clark away. 

A female police officer came to Clark with awe and heartbreak in her eyes. “Mr. Kent,” she put a hand on his arm and he fought the urge to throw her off the bridge. “I can’t imagine the grief you’re experiencing,” she shook her head. “I know that you desperately tried to save that little boy.”

Clark couldn’t look her in the eyes, he couldn’t stop shaking and tears leaked down his face. “These kids, the thirty two children who survived, are saying that you saved them. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Clark croaked, looking around the scene as ambulances drove off and a long black shadow of a limo pulled up to the police barricade.

“I’ll need to take your statement.”

His head snapped back to her. “I saw the broken guardrail,” he rushed, desperate to escape this place. “I realized it was a bus and dove into the water. I carried the kids out five at a time and then went for the last three kids,” his voice cracked.

“Where was the bus driver?”

“Dead. There were two deceased children in the bus as well. I couldn’t get them out.”

“That’s okay Mr. Kent. You saved thirty two children.”

“It should have been thirty three.”

“How much time did it take to rescue the thirty? We were on the scene for the last two. They popped up out of the water and the rescuers fished them out. They said you saved them as the bus was sinking, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I don’t know how much time it took to get the thirty. Felt like forever.”

The cop nodded, jotting down notes as Clark watched two familiar faces emerge from the limo at the barricade. 

“I can’t…can’t talk anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll keep in touch,” the cop flipped her book shut. “I know you may not feel like it right now, but you’re a hero Mr. Kent.” She patted his shoulder. “You should let the EMT’s look you over,” she said as she walked away.

Clark simply stood there, saying nothing more than a few words to an EMT who tried to help him, but Clark refused the help. 

His superhearing picked up the sound of a zipper and his stomach lurched knowing that it was a body bag. Divers were showing up as well to retrieve the bodies of the two remaining children and the bus driver.

“Clark?” Lana’s soft voice shattered his mental isolation. He turned towards the immaculately dressed Lana and Lex Luthor, surely fresh from the theater or an expensive dinner in Metropolis. 

“What the hell happened?” Lex looked with concern upon the scene then brought his gaze back to Clark. But the young man’s eyes were hollow. 

“Mr. Kent! Mr. Kent!” a reporter was barreling towards Clark and the Luthors. “Is it true that you saved thirty two children from this deadly bus accident?” 

Realization dawned across Lex and Lana’s faces, but rather than reply to the reporter, all Clark could do was stare at the zipped up body bag being put into an ambulance. Lex followed the trail of Clark’s gaze and a shudder went down his spine.

“How many people were in the bus when it crashed?” Lex asked the reporter. Turning the tables threw off the intrepid blood hound, but he answered regardless. “Thirty five kids and a bus driver. Thirty two children survived and the driver did not.”

Lex shared a look with Lana and then turned the full force of his Luthor authoritarian strength toward the reporter. “Look,” he said to the man with a recorder shoved in Clark’s face, anxiously waiting a response. “If you want to continue having a career, you’ll get that thing out of Clark’s face, make an about face, and disappear.”

“Are you threatening me Mr. Luthor?”

“I’m telling you that clearly Clark Kent has been through enough today,” he grabbed Clark’s wet arm and drew him towards he and Lana. “Now get the hell away from us.” 

The reporter’s face was red with anger but he disappeared nonetheless. “Let us take you home Clark,” Lex said, much to Clark’s surprise. They hadn’t been on friendly terms at all since Lex married Lana, making it abundantly clear that they would forever be at odds. Yet here he was, getting a reporter off Clark’s back and offering him a ride.

“Don’t want to go home,” Clark whispered.

“Then stay at the mansion,” Lana took Clark’s other arm and the two Luthors wordlessly walked him towards the limo. 

Numb. Clark was numb. He got in the limo and the driver made the arduous effort of turning the vehicle around to find an alternate route to the mansion. Clark just stared out the window, not even noticing that he was violently shaking and freezing cold. 

“You need to get your clothes off before you freeze,” Lana’s voice filled the space. Clark was sitting directly across from the couple. “At least take your shirt off.” 

Clark didn’t put up a fight, he simply obeyed, using his large hands to simply rip the wet cloth from his body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lex’s eyes going wide. The scar. Shit. That and a whole constellation of cuts littered Clark’s arms and chest, blood dripping around the scar as if it were a roadblock. 

“What the hell is that?” Lana asked. Clark and Lana had never slept together when they dated and he was careful to always stay fully clothed so as to avoid this very line of questioning. But right now, he didn’t give a shit anymore. 

Somehow, after spending a high school career saving people and then moving to Metropolis and saving tens of thousands more there, and around the world, keeping his secret suddenly felt…unimportant. He spent every moment he wasn’t in class trying to save lives, and it had taken a heavy toll. 

That coupled with dealing with a psychotic and abusive Jor-El, and Clark was at the end of his rope. So why not answer honestly? He could practically feel Lex bracing himself for another lie and he just didn’t have it in him to deliver one.

“It’s a burn,” Clark said emotionlessly, eyes boring holes into a random spot in the limo seat between the Luthors. “My father did it.”

“Not Johnathan!” Lana interjected. 

“No, not my dad, my father. Biological father.”

A deep shiver wracked through Clark and Lex slipped off his long black jacket, offering it across the space that separated them.

He took the garment and looked at it, hands massaging the soft material. “I’ll ruin it.”

“I don’t care. Put it on.”

Clark groaned in pain as he maneuvered his body into the coat, muscles bunching and relaxing around red rivers of blood traveling southward. 

“Your father hurt you?”

Several beats of silence.

“Constantly.” The word floated menacingly around the cabin, and with that singular word, Clark felt like a weight was being lifted off his chest. 

“He makes Lionel Luthor look like father of the year material. The things he’s done to others…to me…” Clark stopped, tears sliding down his face. 

By now, Clark’s teeth were chattering.

“Let us take you to the hospital,” Lex offered, trying to change the subject after seeing how much it was upsetting Clark. 

“No,” Clark answered too fast. “Why the hell not?”

Clark looked up at his former friend with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the sadness he felt reflected in his eyes. “Because Lex…I’m a freak…and if you take me to the hospital, they’ll find out my secret.”

Lex’s mouth went dry and Clark could practically hear his heart skipping in his chest. 

“Don’t act so surprised,” he said to the duo. “You’ve always known I was different.” 

“Why…why tell us now?” Lex asked, anger barely concealed in his tone. This secret, now given a form, presented as if it was nothing by Clark long after their friendship was in tatters and he had married Lana, and not out of love.

“My father would have killed you if I had told you before.”

“Bullshit, Clark…I have resources and protection…we could have gone to the police about him…”

“Nothing could protect you from him. No police could stop him,” Clark shut his eyes tight, flashes of his father’s abuse playing like a bad movie behind his eyelids. “He burned our family crest into his own son’s chest and that’s not even…not even the worst thing…” more tears fell. The young man shook, unsure whether it was out of shock or horror or the dizzying feeling at letting some of his secrets go. 

The tears turned to choked sobs, blood mingling with tears on Kent’s face. He took breaths in but suddenly felt as though he was back underwater. “I can’t breathe,” Clark grasped at his chest, wild eyes racing as the car began to feel much too small.

Lex crouched and crossed the small space. “Take a deep breath, you’re having a panic attack Clark.”

“Can’t breathe Lex.”

Lex cupped Clark’s face in his warm, soft hands and stared at him with those endless gray eyes. Clark grasped at Lex’s wrists, drinking in the familiar scent of his former friend. “Breathe in…1….2…3… hold it. Breathe out…1…2…3.. pause.” Lex’s words were warm and soothing and washed over Clark until his breath became normal. 

Lana be damned, Clark slid closer to Lex, putting his face in the crook of Lex’s neck and taking a deep breath in, realizing at that moment how desperately he had missed his friend and just how little actual human contact he’d had in the last two years. 

Clark let his lips brush against the smooth skin of Lex’s neck, feeling the older man stiffen as if afraid to scare Clark away. He groaned in relief, not caring that he was hard, or that his life was a mess and his soul felt hollow half the time.


	2. Chapter 2

It was inevitable that reporters tailed them. They saw the wet and weary Kent ducking into the limo and as the vehicle pulled into the long drive, Clark had never been more grateful for the black wrought iron gate that kept the tide of inquirers back. 

Begrudgingly, Clark had to allow Lex to pull back from the embrace and get out of the vehicle. As soon as the warm Luthor body drew away, Clark felt freezing cold and crushingly lonely. Then he saw the long, pale, elegant fingers extended out to him. He took the hand and was pulled out into daylight. 

The butler held open the gargantuan wooden door and the trio entered the mansion. "Mr. and Mrs. Luthor, welcome back," he said hesitantly, glancing Clark over. "Mr. Kent...it is good to see you again. Will you be needing a first aid kit and some clothes?" 

Clark looked down, forgetting that glass remained embedded in his skin, sending rivulets of bright red blood down his torso. 

"That would be great Damian," Lex took over. "We'll also be getting some press inquiries, let's deflect them for now." The butler nodded. "Let's get you cleaned up Clark," Lex's hand felt warm on his back. Clark gazed up at the long dark staircase and felt like collapsing. He let out a sickly sounding cough and belatedly realized that he must have inhaled small amounts of water. Water that contained flecks of meteor rocks. No wonder he felt like such shit.

As if reading his thoughts, Lex grabbed Clark's left arm and secured it around his neck, helping him up the stairs. Lana followed the pair wordlessly. Thankfully, Lex came to one of the first rooms at the top of the stairs but he didn't let go of Clark once they were inside. Instead, Clark found himself being helped to the bathroom.

"We need to get these wet clothes off you and pick the shards of glass out of your skin," Lex said clinically, drawing Clark to the bathroom and leaning him against the counter as he went to turn on the water in the bathtub. Lana continued to follow, simply watching with an indiscernible emotion in her eyes. The sound of rushing water filled the immaculately designed room. It was a little sad that one of Lex's random bathrooms was larger than Clark's dorm at Met U.

He slid Lex's jacket off his shoulders and watched the lithe muscular form sitting on the edge of the tub, twisting, rolling up his sleeves and touching the water to feel the temperature. Lana was in a corner adjacent to Clark, leaning against the wall in a stunning emerald dress. Clark placed Lex's ruined jacket on the broad counter between the sinks and simply waited in silence. 

Finally, Lex turned the faucet and the man-made waterfall ceased. Steam rose from the bright white basin and the billionaire rose and strode towards Clark. Suddenly he felt quite naked and exposed, despite still sporting squishing shoes & socks and heavy denim jeans that dripped river water on the marble floor. He wasn't sure what to do with his arms, the lights in the room seemed too bright, and the scar on his chest was prominently visible. He tried to arrange his hands to hide his erection, but there probably wasn't much point in hiding, considering he was about to be stripped and tended to.

"This is going to be awkward," Clark mumbled into his chest.

"I know, but Clark, I can't just summon some random doctor and risk a stranger learning your secrets."

Clark took a deep breath in now that Lex was close and thought about how he was going to approach this situation. But the neurons wouldn't fire, the bullshitting part of his brain wouldn't cooperate. He was exposed to Lana and Lex on several levels and it was about to get even more interesting. 

Lex started with Clark's shoes, unlacing them and pulling them off before reaching for the soaked socks. Seeing the powerful man on his knees on the floor in front of him made Clark's cock ache. He suppressed a moan as a thousand old fantasies sprung to life. After their friendship fell apart, Clark ripped all things pertaining to Lex from his heart and mind only to find them flooding back now.

Luthor looked up at him through ginger tinted eyelashes, his face at crotch level yet looking so innocent, and it struck Clark that Lex was genuinely, deeply concerned for him. Now his heart ached as well as his groin.

Lex stood, glancing once at Lana who held a rapt gaze aimed at her husband and ex boyfriend. The feeling in the room was a bizarre and heady mix of concern, despair, and a desperation to comfort that was quickly sliding towards desire. The door to the adjoining room was closed and steam swirled in the small space between Clark and Lex. 

Anxiety spiked through Kent's chest and Lex must have caught a shimmer of that emotion displayed on Clark's face. "I'm sorry Clark," Lex almost whispered, but Clark cut him off before more words could tumble out.

"I just don't want you to hate me more than you already do," Clark admitted.

"I don't hate you Clark."

"Yes you do and now you'll be disgusted by me to boot."

Lex took a sharp breath in and unbuttoned Clark's pants, pulling down the zipper and dragging them off Clark's hips.

"Why would I be disgusted by you Clark? Because you have an erection?"

Clark stepped out of the jeans and kicked them aside. 

"No, not because I'm hard, but because I'm hard for you."

Clark could hear Lex's breath catch in his throat as he straightened, something like hope and arousal glittering in the endless gray eyes. "I'm not disgusted Clark."

Kent let his gaze rise and flit over to Lana who didn't look disgusted either. Her silent, steadying presence didn't belie any emotion aside from curiosity and perhaps arousal.

"How long have you wanted me Clark?" Lex reached up and pulled a rather noticeable chunk of glass from Clark's shoulder.

"Since the day on the bridge, when we first met, when I brought you back to life." 

"I don't believe that," Lex offered back quickly.

"It was just another secret to store and stash away," Clark's voice was pained. The irony wasn't lost on him that an accident had brought Lex into his life for the first time, and a separate accident on a similar bridge was could possibly bring Lex back into his life. 

"What do you want Clark?" Lex traced the outline of Clark's scar, pulling a groan from somewhere deep in his chest. 

"Things I can't have," he was fighting back tears again, eyes glossy and heart broken. "I ruined everything Lex," his voice cracked. "I wanted to tell you so bad...I just..."

"Shh..." Lex soothed, brushing a thumb over Clark's lips. "Can I touch you Clark?" Lex's head was tilted and he looked at Clark with a predatory gaze.

"B...but you're married," Clark shot another glance at Lana whose skin glimmered beneath the steam.

"Can I touch you Clark?" Lex repeated the question as if Clark had never said a word, as if Lana weren't even in the room, his body drawing impossibly close.

"Yes," he ground out, immediately feeling a jolt as Lex's hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke. He was never more grateful for having gone commando as those expert fingers moved around him. Moaning, Clark lurched forward, catching Lex's mouth in a ravenously talented kiss. And Lex was kissing him back, challenging his resolve with his own expert tongue. 

Clark didn't dare touch, instead keeping his hands firmly braced on the sink counter behind him. 

Suddenly, Lex's hand was gone, leaving Clark to emit a high pitch needy whine of disapproval, until he saw his former friend drop to his knees once more. Clark's cock jumped at the realization and the flat of Lex's tongue slid from the base to the leaking tip. "Have you ever fucked men before?" Lex asked, hoping to maximize this truthful streak Clark was exhibiting.

"Yes," Clark admitted. Lex's upturned gaze turned surprised and then...dark...jealous. 

"I wanted them to be you," Clark tried to ameliorate the situation. 

The thought of a jealous Lex and an approvingly kinky Lana coupled with the weightlessness of letting some secrets go and the focus of Lex's mouth lavishing Clark's cock had the young man dizzy. He couldn't help the small snap of his hips that had Lex gagging. Despite being rather skilled in this department, Clark was very well endowed. So Lex used his hands and his mouth...stroking Clark, fondling his balls, dipping his tongue into the slit of his cockhead on the upsweep before devouring him down again. It didn't last long. 

Clark shuddered, legs wobbling as he shot ropes of come down Lex's eager throat. He was so swept up in riding the ecstasy that he failed to notice the vanity's solid stone counter cracking beneath his hands. Lex sat back, wiping up the spit that had dribbled down his chin with the back of his sleeve. 

He stood and took Clark's wrist, guiding him to the tub. Clark looked back at the vanity with concern. "Don't worry about the countertop, I wasn't fond of it anyway," Lex said, licking at his lips, trying to chase the taste of Clark that seemed to have vibrated down his throat. He let go of Clark's wrist and bent slightly.

"Shit, the water's cold," Lex touched the rippled glass surface. 

"I can warm it up," Clark tried his heat vision. But rather than a steady stream of laser like focus, it came in spurts, sending flames spitting towards the water as it struggled to work. But it worked well enough. He could feel Lex and Lana's awe filled gazes boring holes into his flesh, but he ignored them and lowered himself into the tub. 

An unexpected knock at the bathroom door startled Lana who seemed to jump at the sound. It was the butler. Lex slid the door open just a hair.

"I have some clothes for Mr. Kent," he said cooly. "And here is the first aid kit," he handed the items to Lex who turned and handed them to an out of view Lana. 

"Mr. Luthor," the butler continued, "the press is practically beating down the gates. I believe that you are needed for the damage control effort."

"Right," Lex answered, hiding the disappointment in his voice. "Lana, can you take the glass out and bandage him up?" 

"Of course," she moved towards the tub as Lex vanished out the bathroom door. 

The bath water was now red with Clark's blood. He felt completely drained and more than a little confused at what had just happened. Did Lex just blow him out of pity? Was their friendship still in shambles or was it on the mend? What on earth was Lana...thinking? How would he deal with the multitude of secrets that remained in his arsenal? Lex and Lana had no idea, they hadn't even begun to scratch the surface. Would he have to reveal everything now? There certainly was no going back and no room left for dishonesty, not now, not after what Lex just...

"I can practically hear you thinking," Lana's soft voice filled the space. "Stop thinking Clark, close your eyes and relax," she sat behind Clark, legs in the tub on either side of him, butt seated on the porcelain lip. She was washing him and it only added to the bizarre nature of the day. But he was so damn tired that he simply closed his heavy eyes and her clean his scrapes and pull out glass.

"Why don't you hate me?" he whispered.

She huffed a laugh. "Oh Clark...I don't think I could ever hate you. I've always known how Lex felt about you. He had to turn his affection into rage in order to function once your friendship fell apart, but I've always known how he really feels. I married him out of love but that has long since dissipated."

"Why stay?" 

"I don't know Clark. I think part of me thought I could lessen his obsessions, balance his more sinister tendencies, change him... But you and I both know that Lex Luthor is an unchangeable force. He is who he is."

She moved a soft washcloth over Clark's face.

"I don't know what just happened here or what it means. But I know that you've always needed each other and always will and I'm not foolish enough to stand in the way of Lex and what he wants, my self preservation skills are too strong."

"But you're not...hurt? Betrayed?"

Her laugh filled the bathroom, bouncing off the expensive finishes. 

"Hardly Clark, we have a very...loose relationship. But my advice to you Clark is to be careful. Be very careful. You and I both know that Lex is not the same man that you saved on that bridge five years ago. You're the most fragile that I've ever seen you Clark...you can't afford to get hurt." 

She continued bathing him until there was nothing left to bathe and then drained the water. Clark stood, uneasy, and climbed out of the tub, pulling on the pair of provided sweatpants and having a seat on a small bench. Lana got the first aid kit and began pulling the foreign objects out of Clark's upper body.

"Can I ask you one thing?" her words wrapped around Clark's shoulders like a towel.

"Sure," he answered, despite growing fear. This whole honesty thing was new territory.

"Did you ever love me?" 

Clark's throat went dry and his heart picked up. 

"I've loved you since we first met in Kindergarten," he said honestly. "But it's a different kind of love than..." "...than what you have for Lex," she interjected. 

"Yes. I was always infatuated with you."

"Puppy love..."

"I guess. You're safe and good, you're light and sweetness and Smallville..."

"What's Lex then?" 

"He's...he's like the other half of a magnet. We're always charged, whether it's being drawn together or forced apart and fighting, it's like our destinies are bound." 

"So how does the story of the hero and the billionaire villain end?"

"I don't know Lana, I wish I did."


End file.
